


O Be Some Other Name

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Stardust (2007)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-24
Updated: 2007-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 01:44:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1624946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feel free to picture young Robert DeNiro as you read this story.<br/>Title from Act II, scene ii of Romeo and Juliet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O Be Some Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you sexybee for research and beta-ing! And RoseFox for doing an awesome check for typos! And everyone in #yuletide for cheering lots. And Netflix for bringing me the movie. And my parents for buying me chocolate.
> 
> Written for Sinope

 

 

"William!"

Will startled and fumbled the container he held. It hit the ground and the top slipped just enough for a small lightning bolt to shoot out and hit the cart next door. "Oy!" someone said inside as Will fell on the container and closed it quickly.

"William, will you never stop daydreaming?" A heavy hand fell on Will's shoulder.

"Sorry, Father," Will said, not looking up.

Captain Ghostmaker sighed. "Come on then, Will," he said, helping his son to his feet. "Put those muscles of yours to use and help me bring these bolts off the ship."

"Yes, sir," William said, following his father up the ramp to the ship. The _Caspartine_ hovered above the market at Wall, selling the lightning bolts collected through the storms of the past winter to the fairies, witches, princes, warlocks, gnomes, elves, dwarves, tricksters, adventurers, brigands, and traders who gathered there. William loved the market at Wall. After the unloading and trading was done, he could find a corner at the inn where his gangly limbs would be out of the way and listen to the stories of far-off lands.

Captain Ghostmaker began piling their trade items into William's arms. "So what was it that took your mind away this time, Will?"

"Oh, Father, it was the story the traveler told last night! It was the most amazing thing I'd ever heard!" William's enthusiasm was unhampered by the cases of lightning piling up in his arms. "It was about a war, a war that lasted for a hundred years between France and England--"

"You and your stories of England," Captain Ghostmaker grumbled, slinging the strap of one case over Will's neck and another over his shoulder. "Always on about fairy tales when you should be payin' attention to your work! Come on then." He led Will down the gangplank, as Will's arms were too full to properly see where he was walking. 

"But it was fascinating, Father!" Will said, only slightly muffled by his load. "All about Edward's allies, and betrayals, and breaking his oath and the sacking of the English coast--"

"Here, Will, put them down here," the captain said, helping William get the lightening on to their trading table. "Now listen, William, to what I'm about to say."

"Yes, Father," Will said, eyes big.

Captain Ghostmaker sighed. "You've got to stop all this fantastic day-dreamin', William. I'm countin' on you to take over the _Caspartine_ when I'm gone, and you can't have your crew thinkin' you're not able to fight for what you aim to keep. Captains like fighting, drinking, and women. You hear me, William?"

William's eyes dropped. "Yes, Father," he said quietly.

"Look at young Terrance Evans," Captain Ghostmaker said. "He's not half as strong as you are, Will, nor as skilled with a sword, but he's got two dozen men who'd follow him to the ends of the earth. You just... be a little more like Evans." He paused, eyeing his discouraged son. "Alright now, off with you to the inn."

"What?" William looked up. "Really, Father?"

"Yes, yes, go along with you now," Captain Ghostmaker chuckled. William didn't have to be told again.

***

William crossed the threshold of the Slaughtered Prince behind a large group of men who seemed to have already made a stop at the Cackling Witch pub down the way. They were loud and boisterous, and William entered unnoticed. He carefully made his way through the public room towards the fireplace in the back, where the storytellers gathered. Almost there, he heard a voice carry over the crowd.

"... and that's when he forced Claudius to drink the poisoned wine..."

Will stopped dead in his tracks. That voice belonged to Terrance Evans, leader of the Roving Band of Brigands, the terror of all the roads of Stormhold, he of the reputation so fearsome it even reached above the lighting storms. William struggled with himself for a moment, but eventually crept closer.

There he was, sprawled on a chair by the fire, tankard in hand. Will reflected that his father was right: Evans didn't have anywhere near William's muscles and his beard was not yet fully in, but there was an air of power held in the lines of his legs and shoulders. He looked more dangerous lounging than most men would look with a sword in their hand. He had just finished telling a story, and everyone was shouting cheerfully and clinking their mugs together.

"'ey, Evans, you got another in ya?" someone yelled. The men around him roared in agreement.

"All right, all right," Evans said agreeably, flashing a grin. There was a general grumble of satisfaction as everyone quieted down. "So there's these witches, right, and they predict they're going to meet with this Macbeth..."

William stole closer.

***

The men began trickling out when Macbeth saw Banquo's ghost, and by the time Macbeth was killed there were barely half a dozen left. When the story finished they left in a mob, slapping Evans on the back and muttering, "Great story," and, "That's the real stuff." They stuck close to each other on their way out of the inn, and Will smiled to himself at how seriously the strong men of Stormhold took their ghost stories.

Evans was left alone, one foot propped up on the hearth, staring into the fire. Will watched him as he seemed to sink into a study, occasionally sipping from his tankard. Will bit his lip and scooted an inch closer. Evans took another sip, his coat falling open to reveal a tight shirt, blue and open at the collar. He reached up to rub his lip thoughtfully, leaving it pink.

From somewhere, Will found the courage to clear his throat. Evans looked up. 

"I, ah... I loved your story," Will said, proud his voice didn't break.

"Did you, then?" said Evans, sounding amused. "You're William of the _Caspartine_ , aren't you?"

Will couldn't help the flush that sprang to his cheeks. "You've heard of me?" he said, trying to sound assured rather than amazed.

"The lad who likes stories." Evans sat up straight, taking his foot off the hearth, and turned towards William. "And you liked mine, you say."

"Oh--oh yes, very much! It was very... heroic. Suspenseful. Thrilling." Will shut his mouth before he could start babbling.

Evans looked him up and down, piercing blue eyes landing on Will's face. "Well, William who likes stories," he said, his voice sending a chill down Will's spine for all the fire was so hot, "I've got many more in me. Come up to my room, then, and I'll tell you some more."

"You would? I mean--would you?" William sat up straight. "Are--are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Will," Evans said, a smile growing on his face. "I've got walls of books up there, dozens of them, and cushions for you to sit on while I tell you what's in them. I've even got a piano."

"I--Thank you. Thank you very much. Yes, please. I'd--thank you." Will shut his mouth and stood up, and tried not to stumble over his own feet as he followed Evans up the stairs.

***

"...and there never was a tale of more woe than that of Juliet and her Romeo."

"Oh," Will sighed. "Oh. Oh my. Evans, that was so... so beautiful."

Evans chuckled. "Yes, Will. Many people have said so."

"It's just so..." Will gestured ineffectually, and got up from his cushion to pace around the room. "So intense! Love like that, that could take over their lives... Evans--Evans, I want to feel that." He turned towards Evans, taking two steps forwards and kneeling at his side. "D'you think I ever will?"

Evans smiled at him, his eyes clear and blue as the sky after a lightning storm. "Yes, young William, I think so." He paused, reaching out to brush a strand of hair off Will's forehead. "But only if you start callin' me Terry."

Will drew back in confusion. "What? I--of course I will, if you want me to, but I don't know what you mean..."

Evans grinned at him, big and happy. "Let me show you, Will." He took Will's hands and pulled him closer, until Will could feel hot breath across his cheeks. Will's eyes fluttered shut and he felt Evans' lips brush his, soft and dry. 

When Evans drew back, Will sucked in a deep breath and opened his eyes. Evans was watching him, looking oddly vulnerable with his eyes wide open and a flush high on his cheeks.

"Yes," Will said, "yes, I want that, show me, please, I want--"

***

William sighed, running his fingers up and down Terry's back. Muscles flexed under his hand as Terry shifted, nuzzling closer into Will's neck.

"Heavy sigh, Will. Not satisfied, hm?"

"Oh, no, not that, I'm very, _very_ satisfied." Will's lips quirked up involuntarily. "I'm just... thinking about my father."

Terry raised his head, blinking. "You're thinking about your father now? I've definitely done something off."

Will couldn't help but lift his head and bring his lips to Terry's, reveling in their warmth and the way they slid over his own. He pulled Terry's head back down onto his shoulder and resumed stroking his back. "It's just that Father's always thought I was a wopsie. And now it turns out he's right. I'll never be able to take over the _Caspertine_ , and he'll always be disappointed in me."

"You insist on talking about it, hey?" Terry grumbled, and heaved them both over until he was on top of Will, bright blue eyes inches from his face. "How d'you think I manage, Will? The two of us, we're Montagues in the house of Capulet, but we're fine as long as we keep up the masquerade."

"Yeah?" Will said faintly. "You think I can do that?"

"Course you can," Terry murmured, lowering his head slowly. He grinned, big and bright and blinding. "I'll show you."

 


End file.
